


forgiven

by bogfenwetland



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22180927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bogfenwetland/pseuds/bogfenwetland
Summary: beau talks to yasha about what happened between them in the past
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Kudos: 62





	forgiven

**Author's Note:**

> feeling a little impatient waiting for SOMEBODY to at least have an in character moment discussing this with yasha. would be all the better if it was beau, but honestly i would settle for anyone
> 
> (im on tumblr @jennifersbody2 feel free to hmu i am always looking to follow new people!)

“Hey, Yasha?” 

The familiar voice reaches Yasha’s ears, pushing her to look up from the line of her book she had been engaged in. Beauregard stands tall before her, looking down to where Yasha sits with her legs crossed on a wide tree stump. She looks nervous, as she always seems to when speaking to Yasha. Yasha has not been blind to this. She folds the corner of her page down and gently shuts the book, letting her fingers slide along the edges of the paper as she does so. She raises her eyebrows at Beau, welcoming her to continue. This would be the first time they had spoken on-one-on since Yasha’s return, the gravity of it not lost seemingly on either of them.

“Um, could I sit?” Beau asks, pulling at the fabric of her robe with her right hand. Yasha places the book softly on the ground and slips her legs out from under her, sitting simply with her knees bent to leave room enough for Beau on the stump. It is a large stump, assuredly, but even still it is not quite big enough for two to sit across from each other. Instead, the two women sit facing forward, for if they were to turn their heads towards each other their faces would be but inches apart. A silence falls. 

“Yes, Beauregard?” Yasha offers after a moment, trying to motivate Beau to speak. She watches as both of Beau’s hands now fiddle with her clothing, deft fingers senselessly playing with the fabric. Beau looks up at Yasha for a fleeting second, quickly averting her gaze as if she was scared by the closeness of it all. 

“Ah, well, I don’t want to say this in a mean way or like I’m trying to be rude or anything but I know that it could come across like that so I really don’t want you to see it like that it’s just that I want to talk to you about this but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or  _ myself _ uncomfortable honestly because this is kind of a weird thing and just know that if you don’t want to talk about it I understand completely and I wouldn’t want to put you in a bad position or something like that but-” Beau’s anxious rambling is cut should when Yasha places a firm hand on her knee, removing it just as swiftly as it was placed. The warmth lingers, both on Yasha’s palm and Beau’s leg. Neither looks towards the other. 

“Beauregard, relax. What do you want to say?” Yasha tries to be sure that her words are coming out calmly, but she is worried she cannot hide the slight nerves she feels thinking about whatever Beau might say. 

Beau takes a deep breath. “Are you okay?” She asks. 

Yasha is taken aback. She doesn’t quite understand. “‘Okay?’” She questions, looking down towards Beau. “How do you mean ‘okay?’”

“Like, I don’t know, well? Doing well? Feeling… like, good? Because, and forgive me if I have been reading you wrong because I know we have spent some time apart but it seems to me that you have been even more quiet and mysterious than usual? And, I mean, we don’t have to talk about this, but your fight at that pit last night…” Beau trails off. 

“Ah. Alright. I understand you. I am not… okay,” Yasha states simply. 

“Oh, okay, getting right to it, yeah. Well then, what’s wrong? What are you feeling?” Beau presses, turning her head to look at the side of Yasha’s face that stares blankly out into the distance. 

“I mean, do you really not already know? I was evil for some time, Beauregard. I feel immensely guilty about this,” Yasha says quietly, matter-of-factly.

“Well, no,  _ you _ weren’t evil. You were mind-controlled! It wasn’t you!” Beau exclaims with passion. Her hands move in her lap, emphasizing her words. 

“I let it happen, I did not manage to fight it off. It is my fault,” Yasha whispers.

“Hey! No! That isn’t right at all, you know that. You tried your best, and even if that wasn’t good enough it was all you could do. That could have happened to any of us,” Beau tries to reason. 

“Do you think so? Because I know that Obann chose me for a reason. Whatever my history is, whatever the Orphan Maker has done, that is specific to me. He would not have chosen you, Beau, or Fjord, or Caduceus, or Jester, or anyone else. If he wanted to, he would have. Instead, he chose me. And I couldn’t stop him. And I hurt so, so many people. Beau, I almost killed you. And I knew I was doing it, and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t protect you from myself, after spending so much time protecting you from other evils. I was the one that almost finished you. I am… a monster,” Yasha says, her volume increasing throughout this speech until she is near the point of a raised voice. “Don’t you understand this?” She asks, quiet now with defeat.

Beau is now the one to put a hand on Yasha’s knee, allowing it to rest there. She stares at Yasha, angling her head so that Yasha is forced to look at her. “Listen to me,” she says. “I am telling you that that was not you. Your body, maybe. But not you. Not your mind, or your soul, or whatever it is that we want to believe makes a person who they are. You would not have done that. Obann would have, so Obann did. But you did not. I cannot stress it enough. And, Yasha, I am not just saying this because I think it would make you feel better and I think that you know that I am not one to do that, but I don’t harbor any resentment towards you for what you almost did to me. I don’t, so don’t feel this guilt about it. You have to forgive yourself for it.”

“But how?” Yasha asks loudly, turning to look into Beau’s eyes, tears welling up that Beau can see clearly with how close they are. “How can you forgive me? When I almost took your life, almost snuffed out your light? Beauregard, I… you mean so much to me! You must know this, you mean so much to me! And still, still I could not save you from who I am, what I am capable of. How can I act as if that is alright? I am a danger to you, to everybody! I will be guilty for the rest of my life!” Yasha urges, tears flowing more freely now. “I am so sorry, Beau. I am so sorry.”

Yasha is crying now, her broad shoulders quivering with her shaking gasps. She brings her hands up to her face and buries her head into them, sobbing openly in front of Beau. Beau hesitates for a moment, having never seen this before. She shakes herself from the sense of awe she feels at seeing this raw display of emotion from the usually stoic Yasha and quickly wraps her arms around the larger woman, holding her close and nestled into her neck. Beau strokes Yasha’s wiry hair gently, whispering words to try and soothe her.

“Hey, hey, listen. It’s okay Yasha, it’s all okay. You’re going to be fine. Try to relax, alright? Take deep breaths, listen to me. It’s okay. I forgive you. I am telling you I forgive you. If you don’t understand why or how I can or whatever, forget that. I am telling you I forgive you. It’s the truth, listen to me. Please,” Beau utters quietly, listening as Yasha tries to breathe steadily, tries to calm herself. They sit this way for a few minutes longer, Beau gently cradling the large frame of Yasha into her side, trying to support her.

Eventually, Yasha’s crying seems to stop. She pulls away from Beau, wiping her eyes softly. Beau brings a hand to her cheek as thumbs away an errant tear that escaped down the side of her face, letting her hand linger there. Yasha reaches up and gently clutches Beau’s delicate wrist. 

“Sorry for crying,” Yasha mumbles.

“It’s all okay, Yasha,” Beau says with a sweet laugh. “Do you believe me, that I forgive you?”

“...Yes,” Yasha says with hesitation. “Yes, I do believe you. I don’t think I understand you, but I do believe you.”

“Good,” Beau says, removing her hand from Yasha’s face. Yasha unwraps her hand from Beau’s wrist and instead clasps her palm, letting their hands drop into her lap. “That’s at least a start. Maybe you’ll take my lead and learn to forgive yourself.”

“Maybe. Do you think that, well, will the others be as forgiving?” Yasha asks. Beau can see some fear in her eyes. She knows what Yasha wants to hear, but she cannot tell her that.

“I don’t know, Yasha. Maybe they will be. Some of them are more wary of you, some that weren’t so close to you before all of this happened. But I… I don’t know, I feel like I know you, you know? So it’s easy for me. It won’t be so easy for everybody. I’m sorry,” Beau explains.

“Right, that makes sense,” Yasha accepts. The two sit in silence for a few moments, hands held tightly in Yasha’s lap, knees brushed against each other as they don’t meet each other’s eyes. Beau brushes her thumb mindfully over the back of Yasha’s hand. 

Yasha stares ahead into the horizon, the sun beginning to set. It will be getting dark soon, and she won’t be able to do much more reading out here. However, feeling the comfort of Beau and the gentle release of forgiveness beside her puts no hurry into Yasha to head back inside. She knows that it will be a long journey, both for her friends and for herself, but Yasha is hopeful that one day things will be okay. For right now, the warm calloused hands of Beau’s in hers feels good enough to her. 


End file.
